Fletcher took the hint and scampered after his chum, who was flying along the “heel” path of the canal as fast as he could go.
In the gathering dusk the storekeeper failed to recognize his son and heir as the latter lay sprawling in the path, and as a consequence he stumbled over Luke’s extended legs and pitched forward, head first, like a stone from a catapult.
The momentum he had acquired in his eagerness to lay hold of Dick now worked greatly to his disadvantage.
Striking the path, he rolled over and over, clutching vainly at the grass to stay his progress.
As the space between the fence and the canal was narrow at this point, before he realized his predicament he was carried over the embankment and fell with a splash into the water.
“Help!” he yelled, and then his head went under.
Huskins had been attracted to the spot by the rumpus and was in time to fish his employer out of the canal; but by that time Dick Armstrong and his friend Fletcher were safe from any immediate pursuit.
CHAPTER IV.
ON BOARD THE MINNEHAHA.
“So you aren’t going back any more, then?” said Joe Fletcher, after Dick had related to him the exciting experience through which he had passed since the two lads had parted, apparently for good, in Mr. Maslin’s store, a little more than an hour before.